YON ARCANUM
by Seou Kajima
Summary: Nelson embarks on a quest...and everything that follows...all that happens to him...everything that occurs...they are all...


Yon Things, Remake, by Nelson 

It was a cold summer day, and the warm winter's sun was beating down on Nelson's face. "It's getting quite hot in here," he thought, as he walked out of the house. A little kid, about the age of 27, approached him, and Nelson hath spoke. "I am blind, young one," he would speak to the child. The child responded to him, in a loud whisper, "That is because you cannot see the truth!" Walking off, Nelson would tip the boy about a dollar and seven yen for the excellent dinner the waiter served him, and then sat on the corner of Beck St. And Whim Blvd. Nelson would lie under the blazing sun, staring into the pretty, circular disk that was floating in the sky. He reached out to touch it, burning his index finger.

Nelson would stand and walk off to the unknown place, and fight the enemy he knew he didn't know he had to face. The gun was drawn from his side, and he would point it to the tree. "You're going down, cowboy," he spaketh, and the Lord hath answered in fury, for the tree's branch struck him now. "Expletive deleted, I can't even fight my arch enemy without being hit…I think I'll have some steak." And so, the protagonist would continue his journey. Traveling across yards of heated, sandy roads, he stumbled across the antagonist, er…Johnny.

Nelson's head injury increased, and he lay down beneath the wind to collect his already organized thoughts. He would lose consciousness.

During this sleep, Nelson would dream. He would dream wild things that I shouldn't be telling you. You should consider yourself lucky. Nelson approached the lone gunman, the crazed antagonist, his archenemy, Johnny. He would walk up to Johnny, in a fierce showdown, and stare him in the eyes. Nelson would talk unto the lone wolf figure, whose gun was pointed in his face. "Um, hello sir, I was wondering if you would like to buy-" "No." "But-" "No." "It'll save you a lot of money on car insurance…" "Well, okay. How much does it cost?"

Nelson would slap Johnny, while screaming "The Pixie of Horror will take your soul!" and run away.

A few days later, Nelson would awake, with a fickly determined look on his face. He would stare into the sunrise. "Gah, ah, maybe this is why I'm blind…if I can just…put out…the fire…"

Nelson pulled out a revolver, and shot the sun with a bullet. The luminosity of the star ended. "Ah! Oops…sorry," Nelson told the sun, but its mercy did not come soon.

In the now always night, Nelson would approach Johnny, the antagonist, I mean, his nemesis. With a smile on his face, Nelson would look to his frowning pistol, and then to Johnny.

"Crazed antagonist, er, Johnny. I have come to claim that which is unrightfully mine." "I did not want to come to this, Nelson, but I fear I must. I will keep the treasure." "What treasure?" "It's a plot device." "Oh."

Nelson would approach his good friend, with his six-shooter in his right hand. He didn't know why. Nelson would then look at Johnny, and run, just run.

He would point the gun at Johnny, and speak once more, "Before, I was blind, and some kid told me, 'that is because-'" "That is because you cannot see the truth!" "But how-" "I've read the story." "Oh."

Nelson would fire a square bullet into the leg of Johnny, and fall to the ground, exhausted by the now re-lit sun. The matrix-like fall on the way down would be a dramatic one, as the heat exhaustion took over Nelson's mind. He passed out.

The Book That Was Never Written, Nelson Again 

Nelson was rushed to the hospital, to be treated for a minor fever, and a bad cough, after his climactic showdown with Johnny. He would stand up onto the curved hospital floor, to only fall back into his hammock again. Six days, a whole week later, they would put him back on the corner that he was found on, and then leave him there. He would get a bad case of heat exhaustion once more, as well as a minor fever, and a cold. He shot out the sun again. It only beamed harder, and made him even hotter, and more tired. He lay there, thinking of what Johnny was doing, and that maybe they should work out their differences, in a more peaceful way, such as poker, or war. Which one they should do, Nelson had no idea.

The Other Book That Was Never Written, Stop Asking My Name 

Nelson would pick himself up from the ground, staring into the hot, blazing sun, and enter his house. He would sit down into the kitchen. It was a cold summer day, and the warm winter's sun was beating down on Nelson's face…


End file.
